


Dirk Strider and the Wonderful Life

by timaeusTestifying



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, M/M, Multi, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Smut, Torture, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 00:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8182138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timaeusTestifying/pseuds/timaeusTestifying
Summary: You wake up in the dreambubbles. You can't remember how you died. You can't even remember what happened in your session. Despite the emptiness you feel after death, some things are better left unremembered.





	1. Lets say you have an axe

**Author's Note:**

> based off an RP blog, based off an AU of an alternate timeline that is centered around dirk. please regard the warnings! rape is something that happens much later on, but it is not going to be a sex scene. and it's not listed as a pairing either.
> 
> i may update the tags as i update the fic.

You were never too fond of storms. You think it's Skaia wanting to punish you by putting you on a planet where lightning and thunder frequent, to your dismay. You're not sure _why_ you'd get punished. You're starting to feel like whoever it is (Skaia? God? Aliens?) just thinks it's funny. Maybe it would be, if you weren't the one getting the brunt of it all. 

But there you are, sitting on top of your apartment building in the middle of LOTAK. Dealing with fucking storms. You look down at your phone, rather that the pointed shades you keep tucked away in your sylladex. The thought doesn't cross your mind why you're not wearing them, though. What's currently on your mind is getting in touch with Jake. You feel like it's useless to keep trying to get in contact with him, but you persist. In fact, you're getting a bit desperate. 

Finally, you let your phone drop next to you on the cement and fall on your back. Your eyes are closed, of course. You're feeling a headache coming on. 

When you open your eyes, you see it. It's big, bright, and red. A ship. _Her_ ship. None other than the Batterwitch's ship. You scramble up and equip your sword. And wait. 

And wait. 

And... wait?

You except drones. You expect the Witch herself. But nothing. There is absolutely nothing. 

You're careful when you pick your phone back up. The screen is black and won't turn on. Interference, maybe. You can't contact any of your session mates. It makes you anxious. They could be on there, couldn't they? The thought of them being in danger makes your chest tighten. 

Maybe... Maybe they are up there?

There's one way to find out, even if it's against your better judgement. 

You swiftly fly up to the ship with the help of your rocket board. It's easy. Too easy. Too easy to get up here, too easy to walk around. No one is here. It's empty. Which should be a good thing, but it puts you even further on guard. 

You enter the ship. Wander around. Trying to find something. Anything. (Anything besides this stupid, Crocker Corp red that seers into your eyes). You don't want to go too deep in the ship. You can't imagine getting lost in this hellhole. Peeking into a few doors, you see things you could have gone your whole life without seeing. Deformed troll bodies in large tubes. Experiments? You want to puke. You try to hurry along and get the hell out of there. 

You eventually find a long corridor. It could lead to a prison... Right? And if your friends are anywhere in here, that would be where they would be kept. 

The hallway is long. The walls, the floor, and the ceiling. A predictable smooth red. But it shifts into a stony, purple brick. You notice while looking at the floor that you're no longer in the ship. When you look up, it's Derse. 

You're in your Derse pajamas. 

What the fuck?

You're able to drift now. Drift through the empty streets of the purple kingdom. Drift through the dark alley ways. Drift down a large chain. You find yourself deeper into the furthest ring. You don't know why you were drawn so far away from a familiar place into nothingness. From afar, you can hardly make it out. A purple slab, with a heart symbol right in the middle. You stand on it. Unsure of... what to do, really. 

You _have_ to be dreaming. Ever since you decapitated yourself and let the dreamself take over as the "Real Dirk" you've been having strange dreams. You haven't seen Derse since the day you entered the game, though. You turn around in a small circle, trying to take in your surroundings, when suddenly, you see a girl. 

A troll girl. Large. Long black hair. Ram horns. Bright red outfit. Fairy wings. 

What the fuck.

"I'm sorry for what's about to happen."

"Uh-"

"But it helps to remember, I think."

"What are you-" You don't finish your sentence, because there is a shape pain in your stomach. You look down and see your shirt soaked in red. That's blood. Blood, blood, blood. "I'm." You choke out, voice weak. You look up at the strange troll girl. "Am I dying?"

"Nope!" She says, all too cheerful. "You're already dead!"

 


	2. Don't think about it

  


When you were a kid, you use to pray that your life would get better. You remember getting on your knees and facing the window with your two palms pressing together, asking God to give you something to look forward to. You prayed for your Bro to be your guardian angel, and that you hope he has a good time in heaven. 

You're not a dumb kid anymore. You stopped believing in heaven. When you found out about Derse, and about the celestial afterlife fart bubbles set up in the furthest ring, you understood what they meant, and you understood that you'd be headed there if you'd ever died. But somehow, right now, you're confused. Caught off guard. 

"I'm not actually dead. Am I?" You say this knowing full well that yes, you are actually dead. There is a large red blood stain on your shirt, which has blinked from Derse Pajamas to God Tier Pajamas.

"You are. Although, I'm not sure if this is the exact place you perma-died. It looks more like somewhere you became God Tier!" You're hardly listening to her in favour of watching the blood drip onto your asshole pantaloons. She seems like she's also transfixed on that? At least for a moment. Until she snaps out of it. "Anyways, I'm Aradia. Aradia Megido, to be exact!" 

You stare at her hand, which she has extended for an handshake. You look at your own instead. Not only are you an utter buffoon, but it seems you're in shock, too. 

Aradia doesn't press the matter though. She's either gets it, or she's too damn polite to say anything. You can't imagine anything else. If she were annoyed at all, she wouldn't have signed up to be the Dream Bubble Reaper, coming around to introduce everyone to their new life in the afterlife. You think about sending her a gift card. Something flowery. Like, thanks boss. But your hand is still up, out, and open, so she grabs it anyways and tugs you away. 

The scenery changes around you. Back to Derse. For awhile, anyways. The purple slowly turns into a bright gold. It's an eye sore, really. 

"Oh. Great. Listen. AA, I think it's TOTALLY cool that you do this? Like, helping newcomers get accustomed to being, y'know, fucking dead-" some troll with a heavy lisp is speaking to Aradia. He stands on the gold brick floor, leaning against the wall when you and Aradia join him. "-But SERIOUSLY. Do you HAVE to drag them in while they're still soaked in their own fucking blood? It's tiring enough to watch a bunch of glorified corpses shuffle around in the same goddamn spot for eternity as it is. The blood? The gore? Nuh uh. Not for me. It's kind of disgusting, honestly. Like someone took a whole pile of shit and just tossed it on my plate. All over it. See, it wouldn't be as much of an issue if I just had to look at it. That would be fine. I could get used to it. I could just close my eyes. But this? This is like SMELLING it. This is like...this is like being expected to EAT it, AA. Except I'm not eating the... uh. Yeah. You get my point. It's nasty, it's unsettling, they smell, and FUCK if I'm going to want to eat again for the next millennium. That's all I'm saying."

"You know Sollux, I understand your point at all. But here's something that you could probably do... Don't come with me anymore?" Oh God. Please, don't let them bicker like some married couple. 

You think about praying again. To get them to stop. Because they totally. Fucking. Are. Instead, you try to interject. "Hey- hey. Um. Hey. I have a question." It catches their attention. Great. You don't even have to get on your knees. "Uhh. How exactly did I die?"

Aradia blinks and tilts her head. "How am I suppose to know?"

Oh. Well. She has a point. 

"I'm sorry, Dirk. Really. But you're going to have to remember on your own. I know it can be difficult. But usually, people remember right away. Or, it takes awhile. Honestly, there's no rush!"

"No rush cause he's glubbin' DEAD."

"Sollux, please-"

Sollux was right about one thing, you guess. If you're dead, you probably have all eternity to remember. 

All eternity. Right. 

"-Anyways, Dirk. You don't even have to try to remember if you really don't want to. Some people thin it helps. With closure, with getting to know who they are, with finding the members of their own timeline..." She drifts off for a bit before picking back up again. "But if you really want to know now, then you can try to retrace your steps. Do you remember what happened in your session?"

You go to open your mouth before realizing that you don't remember a damn squat. You furrow your brows and look down once more. "No. I can't. Which is weird." You look back the same way they came. "Before coming over here, I thought I was in my session... and now..."

"Dirk, don't worry! Come come." Aradia tugs you some more with some kind of enthusiasm you've never encountered before. Sollux seems to roll his... eyes? Maybe? You aren't sure. He has one black eye, and one white eye. No pupils. But the way his eyebrows move leads you to believe that he did. That, and he seems like the kind who would in this situation. 

"I'll get you situated. You can talk to others, that usually helps. If it doesn't you could just talk a long walk and clear your head." 

"Yeah, I don't know if chatting with a bunch of other dead assholes really tickles my fancy. No offence to the dead assholes, but-" You huff through your nose. "I'm just a bit worn out. You know? This is a lot to take in. This situation. In general? I don't have enough containers to take in all these. Damn situations. Barbra, hand me another pail, we're wrangling for these goddamn heavy news boards. Someone dropped a big one in today. I'm fucking dead as all hell."

Sollux's face twists in what seems like disgust and Aradia furrows her brows. They look at each other before you decide to calm the fuck down. "Anyways." You clear your throat. "I uh. Don't know. Everything feels just. A bit overwhelming, if that makes sense." 

The three of you have been flying (floating?) for awhile now. You can see trolls and humans alike in groups, or spread out, hanging out in the golden city. Some are playing games, like soccer or skateboarding. All just trivial tasks to spend the rest of their days. It all seems so depressing. But that may just be you. 

"I know it's hard, Dirk." Her voice is softer. It's warm. Welcoming. It's safe. You understand why she's the one who does the greets around here. "But you'll learn to make a lot of friends around here. They can help you remember. Or, if nothing else, they can help you feel... at home?"

You sigh out through your nose as the three of you land. Your feet touches the yellow brick ground, and when you look down, your shirt is clean from blood. Skimming around, you see... mostly trolls. But you also see a flash of bright orange hair. You squint and see a small group of humans. One of them looks like you, with paler skin. An alternate of yourself. It's not shocking at all, considering you and your splinters. But you see the other three around him. Your session mates. A knot tightens in your chest. 

"I can't." You need to get out of there. You need to get away. You feel like crying. Or something that involves leaking out of the goddamn eyes. You just don't want to see them. You don't have any memories of your own friends at all, but just seeming them there, knowing that they're dead... It's too much. 

Aradia seems to get it. At least, a bit of it. She leads you another way. Bricks turn into grass and buildings turn into trees. It's quiet and tranquil. You can still hear people speak and exchange words, but it's not as busy as the previous memory. 

You're wrecked. You feel miserable. You're dead, and your friends might be dead. "What do I do?" It sounds pathetic when it comes out of your mouth, but you genuinely have no idea. 

"You move on." You look up at Aradia. She has a gentle smile on. Even her friend seems to have soften up a little. She takes your hand, squeezes it, lets go and takes a step back. "I have to go meet up with more people. Like I did with you." Her wings flutter as she begins to fly back up into the air. "If you're here to stay, I'll be seeing you soon. Good luck, Dirk. I hope you find something soon!"

And with that, Aradia leaves with Sollux close behind. 

And with that, you're alone. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had help writing sollux, hoo


	3. Swagged out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is just skippable smut bruv

You roam the forest Aradia left you in for awhile before the forest clears up and leads you to lilypads that seem to be suspended in the air. You contemplate the pros and cons of heading forward. One false step will surely introduce you to your untimely demise.

It then occurs to you that you’re already dead.

You hop over the lily pad with reckless abandon, and end up falling on your face. Not at all graceful as you use to be. You weren’t expecting them to be so… bouncy.

After recovering, you survey your surroundings. There are less ghosts around, but you can see some groups scattered here and there. You think silently for a moment. There’s no way you can just keep avoiding everyone, whether you like it or not. You continue to hop on the lily pads. There are small groups of trolls on a few.

Suddenly, you’re reminded of movies where the new girl in school is trying to find which lunch table to sit at.

You keep on wandering until you see a familiar fish troll. You swear you’ve high fived her before. It becomes clear that she remembers too, because she gives you a nod. “Aye yo. You. You lookin’ like that rad buoy I smacked hands with that one time. Water the fucker you wearin’.”

For some reason, you can just hear the fish pus in her speech. It’s just the way she strains on those words, trying to make it clear to you and everyone around what she’s trying to do. It’s rather impressive, really. In any case, you look down. “Pantaloons, I think. Though I’ve been calling them Asshole Pants. Wearing them makes me feel like I’m an asshole. Not that I wasn’t already an asshole, but everything I do is amplified. I’ve never felt like more of a douche in my entire life.”

She’s not even paying attention. You peer over her and her friends’ shoulders. They made a circle around some glass object… You narrow your empty eyes. Before they shoot open in raw realization. They’re fucking smoking drugs out of a bong.

For some reason, you didn’t really anticipate the afterlife being anything like this. But then again, why the hell would you expect anything different.

“Oh! Ask if the human pawnts to join us!” Says a cat troll, obviously making a fucking pun. This is so surreal.

“Yeah yeah, he’ll join us.” She reassures her and turns to you. “So. What she said.”

“Sure.” You deadpan and lower yourself down into the circle. You’ve never taken any drugs before, and for some reason you feel like it wouldn’t even do you good. But hey, you do have a whole afterlife to waste. Better start with these chumps. There’s the fish troll, the cat troll, some Rufio looking asshole, a skater troll, and another fish asshole with greasy hair. What an amazing turnabout.

It takes you awhile of smoking and passing on the bong to realize that it isn’t doing anything. You’re not getting high. There’s no effect. And there won’t be. Now you only have two dead lungs full of ghost smoke from a ghost bong given to you by a couple of ghost freaks.

You’d leave, but it isn’t as if there’s anything else to do. In fact, there is literally _nothing_ else to do. You just sigh and sit where you are, listening to the stupid babble from the few around you. When they start to get up and leave, you do too. Maybe you can go back to the forest and try to hang yourself. You don’t know of anyone who double-died, but there’s always room for a first.

As you walk away, you can here someone jog up behind you. It’s the greasy fish guy. He grins at you with his hands in his pockets, unlike you who's using your arms to balance yourself while you jump from pad to pad. Finally, once you make it to solid ground, he hurries in front of you and leans against a tree. “Sup.”

You don’t even know what to say.

It doesn’t matter, because he fills in the silence. “We don’t get many humans here in these parts. Sucha shame, I gotta say. I’m really fond of ya.” He has a sort of wavy accent that’s hypnotic. Well, almost hypnotic. You’re not exactly impressed or anything. “The name’s Cronus. Cronus Ampora. I see you’re a prince. So’s my post-scratch descendant. Veeery cool, I gotta say.”

“Sure.”

“Also a heart player too?”

“Correct.”

“Makes sense. Though, what would make more sense would be thief of heart. Cause you’re stealin’ my heart.”

Oh no. You’ve died and when to hell. You rub your face in your hands and sigh. “Wow. Jeez, Cronus, uh. Listen. I’ve recently just died. And I’m having kind of a hard time getting uh, accustomed to it. I’m not in the mood for any of…” You vaguely gestured at him. “This.”

His brows furrow, and then rise. “Ohhh, no no no, chief. You’re totally misunderstandin’. I ain’t that typa guy. I mean, unless you want me to be.” He winks. Ugh. “I was just bein’ nice, y’know? And hey, if you’re new here, I can always lend you a helpin’ hand. If you got nowhere to go, I can take you back to my pad.”

“That sounds like the opposite of what I want to do. Thank you, though.”

You try to get past him, but he blocks your way. “Ooooh COME on, smalls. We gotta lot in common.”

You stare at him for awhile, trying to think what the fuck he’s talking about. “I guess we’re both dead.”

“No, no no! I mean- Okay, listen.” He leans in, real close and wraps an arm around your shoulders. “You’re a human, correct?”

“I suppose most people would come to the conclusion that I am human. And I guess that with enough data to back up that claim, one could prove that I am. But for simplicity’s sake, sure.”

He eyes you closely. Carefully. Before his expression changes. It looks like he has an idea. “Right, right. Well, you know, I’ve always wanted to be a human.”

“Oooh… Honey.” You pat his back. “You’re really not missing anything. At all.”

“Aw don’t be like that!” You’re about to protest once again, when you’re cut off. Once again. “Hey, I’ve gotta handy dandy little idea. You seem like a man of science, yeah?”

You give a tentative, noncommittal shrug.

“Well. Me too. So how about this. I love you humans. To bits. And I wanna learn everything I can abouts them, yeah? And you seem like a smart and curious fella. You could learn so much from me…” He pauses, as if waiting for you to say something before he goes on. “How about we uh… you know. Give each other an anatomy lesson.” And there it is. A wink to top this disastrous flirting off with.

Somehow, this seems like a shitty idea. He seems like the type of guy to get… attached. Or maybe the type to feel entitled after one night. You don’t want to deal with that kind of headache on the first day(?) of being dead.

You can’t believe you’re seriously considering this. Most scientists would take advantage of being in the afterlife to learn the unknown. Not to have sex with an alien.

You tilt your head back and sigh. “Sure. Fine. Sure.”

Cronus opens his mouth, ready to lay down some more charm before he pauses. “What, really?”

Oh, _that_ can’t be a good sign. “Yes, really. I literally have nothing better to do.”

He gives you a shark grin; a big smile with pointy teeth that for some reason, makes you shiver. Not out of fear, though.You can’t place your finger on it.

In any case, he’s leading you… somewhere else. His pad, as he mentioned. He takes you through the dream bubbles until he finds some kind of troll house. “This ain’t like the one I had back when I was alive. It’s just the one I claimed in THIS area. Back on Beforus, I had a castle fit for a king. I was practically royalty, yaknow.”

He opens the door and goes inside. The interior is much bigger than the exterior. Maybe the outside and inside are two different memories? The science behind it could be interesting if you actually wanted to study it… but you have a dead troll to have sex with, after all.

You two finally find your way to a bedroom. “My room. Close to it, anyways. Feel free and get yaself comfortable…”

There isn’t any bed in this room. A load of crap, a desk with a computer and a chair, a TV and… what you can only assume to be a troll bed. It’s a giant pod with slime in it. You’re not going in that.

You try not to think about how uncomfortable that would be to just lay in; you take your clothes off to take your mind off of it. Pantaloons first, then shirt. Shoes, leggings, gloves, binder, underwear. You stare down at your own naked body, skin dark and smooth. Why does it feel so unfamiliar?

You’re torn from your thoughts when you hear a whistle from behind. Cronus only took his shirt off. You guess he’s been staring at you. “Huh. Yaknow, usually the gals are the ones with the rumple spheres, not the guys.” He squints “You’re a guy, right?”

You look down at your chest. Your face feels hot. “Yeah, duh. What do I sound like to you?”

He only shrugs and approaches you, his hands on your shoulders. He feels you up, down, this way and that. Over your breasts, and down to your hips. “Damn, no bulge? I never heard any typa being with no damn bulge. Is it a human thing or what?” He presses a finger to the lips of your cunt. “You have a nook, at least.”

You avert your eyes and bit your lip. “Some humans do, some humans don’t. Biology, ha.” To change the subject, you get straight on your knees, undoing the zipper of Cronus’ pants. No complaints coming from him, at all. You pull down his pants and underwear and…

Oh.

_Oh god._

“Alright, I know we’re a different species and all, but what the fuck.” Before you stands tall; a purple TENTACLE. Ridges go up the underside and smaller tendrils trail up the sides. And the size, Jesus. You’ve never seen a regular human dick THIS big. “How is that going to… Fit anywhere.”

Cronus raised an eyebrow and snickered. “Wow, you humans are somethin’ else. I almost feel’ sorry for ya. I’m one of the most generously endowed troll in my session, by the way. If you're impressed then, heh, that's no surprise.”

Somehow you can tell that it’s a lie, but hey, it’s not particularly bad by human standards. You wrap your hands around the base and squeeze. It’s pliable. Soft, but firm. Not stiff like a human dick. At least you know you won’t double die from the size of it.

The thing seems to wriggle on its own, rubbing against the warmth of your hand. It leaves behind a transparent purple… slime. Cum? Probably not. It’s self lubricating, you figure. This is totally unsettling, but you can’t lie. It also turns you on.

“Well... Itadakimasu.” You say before inhaling and opening your mouth to take in the tip of his cock. Of course, with its mind of its own, it goes straight in enthusiastically. You can’t believe troll dicks have personality.

You get to work on sucking him off, tonguing the ridges of the dick squirming in your mouth. It’s absolutely unearthly, and it’s getting you off. Your cunt is burning and dripping and the way Cronus is grabbing your hair makes you feel like an absolute whore. It’s embarrassing. It’s shameful. Especially with _this_ guy. But this dick is not even halfway in your mouth and it’s already feeling fully, and it’s got you feeling a lot.

The purple gunk coming from his dick and his “nook” drips down your chin, and onto your chest. He’s making a mess of you, and he gets to watch it all. Your eyes close as you suck him, letting a hand covered in purple make its way down to your cunt. You touch yourself and confirm that you are indeed drenched. You decided to pull off so you can get that thing inside of your pussy and flush all kinds of dignity down the toilet. It’s then that you realize… more than three fourths of his dick has made it in your mouth. You groan as you have to pull it out of your mouth (god, it’s disgustingly hot) and pant when it’s out. You’re covered in purple.

Cronus’ eyelids are fluttering, and he’s using the hand not tangled in your hair to stroke his bulge. “What’s up, babe? Thinkin’ of relocatin’ my little friend here to some warmer waters?”

“Please stop talking.” You stand up and tug Cronus closer, close enough so that the tip of his bulge can touch your cunt. You try not to look at the grin on his face as he holds you firmly, and lifts you up by your thighs. You find yourself against the wall, with Cronus’ body holding you up. It’s easy for his dick to slip right into you.

It’s large. It’s thick. Even though it’s pliable, it’s still firm enough to stretch you beyond what you’re use to. And there is a lot of it to stretch you. You let out a small whimper each time you feel one of those ridges bump against your lips. You’re wet, but so is he. It’s an easy fit, even though you feel so damn full. The combined dampness makes you feel messy, and boy, that does wonders to make it even messier.

“Oooohohoho, baby, you’re so damn tight…” He grumbles into your ear making you grunt in response. Your whole body is hot.

Just when you feel like you’re filled to the brink, as the bulge finally makes itself comfortable, it starts squirming again. Of fucking course. You throw your head back, hitting it against the wall as it fucks you on its own. You can even feel it swell up and grow bigger, putting pressure not only inside of you, but against your clit.

You let out a soft sob and weakly try to bounce against him. Thankfully, Cronus gets the picture (maybe he was planning on it anyways) and he starts to pull out and ram back in. Each thrust was having you see stars. You grab at his shoulders, probably scratching angry marks on his back as he fucks the living daylight out of you.

Your grip on him tightens, and your cunt clenches Cronus’ dick hard enough for him to let out some kind of squeal as you cum hard enough to black out for a few seconds. You feel slack against him, and he’s able to pull out of you and sit you back down on the floor, leaning on the wall. For a moment you think it’s all done and over, but when you open your eyes, he’s jacking off right in front of you. You’re about to say something, but before you can, you get a whole lot of purple clouding the view of your shades. Thank God you had them on, you don’t think you would ever want to deal with that shit in your eyes.

His cum is thick and glassy, but warm as it trails down your face, your breasts, your stomach, and down onto your lap. There’s a lot of it. A lot. Even more that’s dripping out of your pussy. You feel like a Grade A slut.

Cronus falls down to sit beside you, panting furiously. He chuckles a bit once he’s caught his breath. “Nice.” He says before slowly tilting the other way, and falling onto the floor.

He’s fast asleep.

“Awesome.” You sigh out exasperatedly, and slowly stand up on shaky legs. You look over to the slime pod. You do not want to go to sleep and wake up with crusty troll jizz all over your body. A better bet would be to sleep in slime, and hope nothing there will dry up in an uncomfortable way.

You lift up Cronus and carelessly dump him in there before following after. It’s pretty large, it’s almost like a hot tub. Not terribly deep. Hopefully you won’t drown-

Oh yeah, you’re dead.

You submerge in the slime and find yourself suddenly drowsier than you ever had. Whether it’s because of the slime, or the sex, it doesn’t matter. You nuzzle right beside the sleeping troll and drift to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its canon that dirk cant get high... (trickster arc)


	4. Swedish fish

It aches. Everything aches. Your battered body, your teeth, your red eyes, your mind, your lungs. You’re wheezing. It’s so hard to breathe. So, so hard to do anything. Your hands are bound in chains above your head. Blood his dripping everywhere.

How could this have happened?

“How pathetic. To think, you woulda been dead if I hadn’t helped you ascend to Godhood. You humans… So tenda. So _weak_.”

Your eyes hurt because you’ve been crying. You’re still crying. It’s hard to see, between the tears and the darkness. Are your eyes even open?

“Yaknow, your brotha was a pain in ass, you know that? It’s a shame he died so quickly. I woulda loved to keep him like I’m keepin’. All beat up. He deserves it. He deserves what you’re gettin’. Think of it. Everythin’ he did to PISS me off. Everything he did. His movies, the press, the loss my company faced because of him… His punishment is yours now, buoy.”

A sharp kick to your stomach. You let out a sob. You feel an angry grip grab your cheeks. Your eyes flutter open, and you can make out Her face.

“You know somethin’ I hate about you humans?” She shoves a thumb into your mouth, forcing it open. “Your teeth. So blunt. It pisses me off. I dunno how ya’ll can eat with these. Had to make my goods soft for the public could eat. Cakes, cookies, brownies. Soft. Just like the species.” She pauses, as if to wait your response. Your silence earns you a stab in the gut. With what? You don’t know. You let out a piercing scream, followed quickly by a sob. She twists the blade, you’re pretty sure it’s a blade, in your gut. “So glad I got you, honestly. Sucha stress relief. A nice chewtoy for Gl'bgolyb.”

You can’t count the number times you’ve been eaten alive by that thing. You can’t tell the number of times you’ve bled to death. Or how many times you’ve been cut open.

She unlocks your chains and grabs you by the collar of your torn up shirt. “You know what, Strider? How about we fix the teeth problem. Free of charge. Lookit me, doin’ you a service. Makin’ you immortal _and_ making you look less of a fuckin’ bitch who can’t do shit.”

She grabs your hair and begins to drag you. And you scream. Scream, because you can feel it. You can hear the loud buzz in your brain, filing your teeth into points. You can feel the pain, you can feel it all. You can feel the ache in your eye, on your stomach. You can feel fucking everything. Everything she’s put you through, you can feel it, and you scream enough for all of it.

“Woah.” She says, “I haven’t even done anything.” She crouches down closer to you. “Hey, I think-”

She doesn’t have a chance to finish, because you were flailing and you managed to hit her in the face. Your eyes were closed, you were sobbing, screaming your head off. You’re surprised, but glad to get away.

“Haha, this is fucked up. Look at him, he’s crayfish.”

“Meenah! What’s your friggin’ deal! Step off the human, he won’t wanna hang around me anymore if ya gonna terrorize him like that.”

Your eyes shoot open. It’s Cronus. That’s Cronus’ voice. You look above to find Meenah and Cronus standing over you. Cronus looks almost petrified, while Meenah is still laughing.

“Hey, buoy. Looks like we got caught up in one of your memoaries. Damn, otter me was glubbin’ BRUTAL AS HELL.”

It was a memory. Just a memory. You’re trying to regain your breath. You still feel sore. Cronus pushes Meenah away, saying something you can’t quite hear. Your head is throbbing and you wish you could die deader than you already are.

Cronus comes back and grabs your wrist, pulling you up to stand. Your legs feel like jello, and you wish you could say it was from the sex. “Damn, Chief. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were screamin’ bloody murder. It wasn’t real, but… damn. Sorry about all that.”

“It’s okay, I-” You stop speaking. You sharp prods in your lip. You stick your tongue out, and it feels like it’s being stabbed. Your fingers go to mouth, to your teeth. They’re sharp.

Cronus winces and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Eugh, that does not look natural.” He tilts his head and shakes it. “Musta happened in your session. Sucks that you just remembered it after a wonderful night with yours truly.”

You feel sick. This really happened. This is something that fucked happened. It happened in real life, and it’s marked you. You shudder and cover your hands with your face. Only to, unfortunately, find that that’s also fucked up. You feel three large scars on your face. Judging the way Cronus looks, the cringe in his face, you have a feeling they’re not the sexy kind, either.

“I’m going to go.” Your God tier outfit isn’t around anymore, but you still have the tattered clothes from the recent nightmare you just woke up from. The white of the shirt is stained with blood, and the pants are too black to see but way too scuffed up to look normal at all. You look like a mess. Whatever, you’ll just fine another empty house and close yourself up there.

Cronus grabs the back of your shirt before you leave. You turn around to find him with a handful of new clothes. A plain white shirt, jeans, and leather jacket. You look up to him and murmur a thank you, trying to ignore the pity you can clearly see on his face.

You leave after you’re fully dressed. You walk and walk until you find a small pond in the middle of a grassy plain.

It’s a bad idea to look, but you’re drawn to the water. You peer into it to take a look at your reflection. Three large, jagged scars go over your left eye. To your forehead, over the bridge of your nose and your eye, then to your jawline. Above them, on your temple, there is a large circular one. A bullet wound, it looks like. Though it’s larger and messier than that. Multiple bullet wounds in the same place? Then a ring around your neck, messy and uneven.

You regret not having the willpower to keep yourself from further investigation. You look around to see if anyone would be watching. You take off the jacket first. Scars on your arms. Amputation below each elbow and shoulder? You think you saw something similar with your legs with you were changing. You take off your shirt. Unfortunately, you lost your binder back during the nightmare. It figures.

What you see is absolutely terrifying, though. Your torso is covered in scars. Bite marks, scratch marks, trident marks? Stab wounds. What’s worse is that you can picture how you got each one of them. Well, most of them. You touch the one on your neck. You don’t think this was from the Batterwitch. It wasn’t from when you decapitated yourself, since that was with your original body…

You trace the scar around your neck til you get to the back. You sigh softly and rub the back of your neck before you catch something there too. It’s not messy like the others. This scar on your back is neat. It’s a fork…

It’s a brand. _Her_ brand. The Crocker Corp trident. She branded you.

You swallow hard and hastily put your clothes back on. You look like roadkill, and you have to spend the rest of your afterlife like this.

You sit in your spot for a while longer, thinking of what to do, where to go. You think you’d go insane if you decided to avoid people.

You get up and look around. The field around you has flooded with water, and you’re on a small island. In the distance, you can see towers that resemble prospit. The water is shallow enough to walk through.

You tread through the water, heading for the golden city and hoping that what’s to come is nicer to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reference for dirk's scars - http://imgur.com/a/a3meV  
> not ALL of them were done by )(IC but yeah. 
> 
> terezi first met aranea through a memory with vriska. aranea projected herself to talk/look like vriska in that memory... i figured i can do that with meenah and )(IC too, without it being too "out there"


	5. Feels bad

Derse is dark, but at least it’s not as hard on the eyes as Prospit is. The land is lit up bright, and all the gold of the buildings reflect it right into your eyes. You don’t have your shades, unfortunately. You must have left them with Cronus when you were rushing out. You hardly remember. 

There are much less people around Prospit. You do recall more trolls hanging out around Derse, and you figure it might be because of the brightness. Were trolls nocturnal? You try to remember while you’re blindly stumbling into the shining city, feeling the walls as you wander.

While lost in your train of thought and struggle to see with a sky so bright, you bump into someone. 

“Oh goodness! My apologies there, didn’t see you mate!”

You’re rubbing your eyes and shaking your head. “No, no it’s fine. My fault. It’s… just so damn bright here.” You lift up a hand to try to block the… sun? There normally isn’t a sun in prospit, is there? Just Skaia. But Skaia isn’t here either, just the roof of the bubble. Well fuck, you can’t block an illusion in time and space, can you?

But you manage, and you see who you bumped into, and your chest tightens. Suddenly, you realize how dry your mouth is. 

“Oh.” He says. “I haven’t seen another Dirk besides my very own. What a surprise this is. Well, hello! I haven’t seen you in particular before, are you new?”

It’s Jake. Or, you think it’s Jake. You’re sure it’s Jake. He looks like Jake. But not quite. Different. You can feel that he’s different. Obviously he is, idiot! He just said he wasn’t yours-

“Uhh, hey there chum, are you alright?”

You swallow. “What? Yeah. Of course. I’m just. God, It’s bright here. Yeah, I’m relatively new. I don’t know how time works here. I think it _ doesn’t  _ work here, actually. Weird, huh? But as far as I can tell, I came here recently. As recently as can be. I mean not THAT recently, but recent enough to… I don’t know where I’m going.”

The poor guy has a blank face for a moment and nods. “Yes, yeah, I understand completely.” You wouldn’t be surprised if he were lying. “If you don’t know where you’re going… Which is to say, if you don’t have any plans, how about you come with me and my pals? You know what they say, the more the merrier! And it can be quite frightening being alone out here on your lonesome.”

Your stomach twists. You can’t place your finger on it, but you chalk it up to not being able to stand being around people. Not after what you just remembered, and certainly not after you died. Seeing people like Jake… You’re positive it’s not a good idea.

\- 

You decide to go with him. 

He takes you around a few corners, into a few streets. Golden bricks turn into a musty orange sand mix. The Land of Pyramids and Neon. This area is thankfully not as bright as the one before, which you find odd since they’re so close to each other. 

When you two finally arrive at the apparent destination, you find a table with cakes, birthday paper plates, and red solo cups. Your eyebrows furrow as you look at Jake. 

“Everyone, I brought a lost little friend! I hope no one minds!” He gestures toward you, and at his friends. 

You’re not sure what you expected. Well, you know what you expected. You expected his session mates. Which they are. There’s Dirk. That’s you. Taller, skin lighter but not by much, and of course with those goddamn triangles covering his eyes. Jane. Short and spout, and sporting an old fedora and a fake moustache. Or a real moustache? If it’s fake, it’s convincing. If it’s real, it must have took a lot of work to look real novelty. 

Of course, beside from Jake, there was someone else. A girl with curly blonde hair with pink tips and black, void-like lips. You don’t know who she is. You should know. You know you should know, but you don’t. 

You take a nervous breath and look back down at the table. “Whose birthday is it?”

“Technically, it’s no one’s.” Says Dirk #2, “Since we’re all dead as dang doorknobs and time doesn’t move forward for a bunch of ghosts. But we’ve been planning something for a while for Jane…”

Jane blows a party blower, making a startling loud noise. “It’s mine! It’s my fake birthday! We’ve already had fake birthday’s for the rest of us, in chronological order of course! I’m the last one up.”

“It gives us something to do. You know, planning, celebrating, cleaning up.” Dirk #2 adds in again. 

“It’ll only take a feeeew hundred times for it to get stale!” Pink girl says. You’re still trying to remember her name. You swear you know her. 

“I don’t want to crash this party.” You murmur. You feel out of place in this whole setup. 

“Oh nonsense. We have plenty of cake. And we’d love your company!” Jane walks over to you and pats your shoulder. “Jake, did you get the party hats from that funny little hat gremlin?”

What?

“Aw… Ohhh… No, I didn’t. I totally friggin’ forgot about that when I met our new Dirky friend.”

_ What. _

“Jake!”

The two begin to argue in a very light hearted manner, and you take a seat in one of the chairs. The other girl is laughing and snorting at the whole situation, which is apparently very funny. You don’t know what the hell kind of gremlin they’ve been making deals with, or what kind of gremlin would even exist in the dream bubbles, but you’re not sure you care to find out just quite yet. 

The other Dirk sits next to you. Now that you think about it, in this group, you’re probably Dirk #2.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Being questioned by your alternate self is is shocking. You don’t know why, it’s a pretty normal question one would ask to the recently deceased. It feels foreign. “I’m adjusting. I guess I was thrown so hard into all of this so hard, I still have whiplash. I don’t even remember what happened…”

Dirk #1 nodded. “I get it. I didn’t remember much when I died either. Must be harder for you, I guess. When I died, I woke up with Jane and Roxy.” You look over to the others. Her name is Roxy. “We found Jake a bit later. Kind of our Jake, his dream self at least. I think his regular self is still alive. Or, I hope he is. I hope whatever my dreamself is doing, he’s doing it right.”

You tongue at your bottom chapped lip, trying to peel off the dead skin there. You look over again to see the other three laughing and wrestling for the lighter to light the handles. 

You feel empty. 

When they finally light the cake, the five of you dig in. The cake is amazing, the four of them are fun and hilarious. Jane was able to get fireworks from later memories and incorporate them to her party. She gives you three sparklers and you hold them until all three lights run out. When the last spark fades away, you look up from it. Jake and Dirk #1 are setting up a large firework while Roxy is mixing a small, fruity drink for Jane. 

Jake and the other Dirk are close, touching shoulders. You can see your alt look at him with the utmost adoration. Jake doesn’t seem to notice. When he  _ does _ notice, he looks away and up towards you. He looks guilty. Or embarrassed. 

Maybe guilty because you know that you don’t have what he has. Maybe embarrassment because you saw him want with rare sincerity you assume all Striders have. 

Whatever it is, it makes you sick. 

-

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

The four of you have moved from the little dinner party in the sand to watching movies in a memory of Jane’s house. It’s smaller than you always imagined. You always imagined Jane’s room bigger than your apartment. But it’s not; in fact, you think your room is bigger than hers. 

It’s a wonder how small a space is when you spend your whole life in it. 

“It really isn’t! There’s really no need to worry, Strider.” Jane is stretching herself out as the fourth movie finishes. You’ve all got small bowls of popcorn on your lap, but you haven’t finished yours. The couches are unbelievably comfortable. Roxy is sprawled across Jane’s lap while you’re to the left of Jake and other Dirk. You feel like a 5th wheel.

“Yeeeah! I mean, like, we love meeting new people! Like, it’s always the same old dead trolls around and they ain’t always the funnest to hang out with, yaknow?” Roxy says as she throws a piece of popcorn up in the air, only for it to land on her face. 

You wonder why you feel so unwelcomed to a group of people that so openly welcome you.

You inhale deeply. You feel as if you haven’t been so social in eons. Your eyelids grow heavy as you drift off. 

-

“J-Jake.” Your neck is burning, and your chest is itching. You’re losing your sight . You don’t know why you haven’t died yet. 

Jake’s rough, calloused hand pushes down on your throat. He’s so hot, he’s burning. Every squeeze from his hand, every thrust from his hips. This is so nasty. This is so fucked. He leans in closer and mouths something into your ear. You can’t hear him if he says anything, but you feel him. You feel him so so much. 

He must have finished when you revive again, because he has already pulled out. You feel gross; the dripping down your legs and the tingling at your throat. 

You don’t bother sitting up at first, figuring Jake will find his way back into the bed by your side. 

But instead, you hear him getting dressed. 

“Jake?” You say when you finally sit up. “Where are you. You’re not going anywhere, are you?” You hear him sigh, but he doesn’t answer. “No, Jake. Come on. Lay down, relax.” 

He doesn’t, though, and you turn on the light. Your room is lit up, but not by much. Jake, in his beautiful dark skin, black hair, jagged scars he earned back on his island cover his skin. Looking at him makes your heart ache, and watching him leave makes you want to rip your heart out. 

“You promise you’d stay. I-If you did that.” You swallow hard in your throat. “I know I’m like. Immortal, but I don’t like dying anyways. You said you’d stay after we were done.”

Jake finally speaks up after shaking his head. “I need some air. I’m just going out for a few hours. Don’t lose your head over it.” 

It might have been funny if you weren’t blinking back tears. You get up and try to grab his arm. “Jake, you promised me that if I let you-”

“YES, Dirk! Yes, I know!” He yanks his arm away from you and looks at you with the type of distant that no one should give his lover. “Jesus fucking tits, Dirk, I know. But I can’t friggin’ be with you all day and night.” 

“But you’re not even-”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m going. Just.” Jake pushes you back on the bed after getting fully dressed. “Sit down for Christmas’ sake.You relax, alright? It’s been months since we brought you back from that fishy seadevil. You have to learn how to be by your own damn self.” 

He leaves, leaving you naked and alone in your room. 

You can’t help yourself. You sob. You swear humans don’t have this much liquid in their bodies. You sob and sob until a hand touches your shoulder. “Dirk?”

Your gaze shoots up at Jake and you grab at him, desperate and tight, pulling him down to you. 

“Dirk! Dirk Dirk-, No wait, I’m not-” He tugs away and puts his hands on your shoulders, simultaneously pushing you away and trying to get you to look at him. 

And when you do, your breath stop. 

It’s not your Jake. It’s the other one, in his bright Prospit pajamas. You look up at him with wide eyes, meanwhile he’s pulling a blanket over to cover you. You realize you’re in Jane’s house, still in the dream bubbles.

Finally, he sits down next to you with a hand on your shoulder. It’s hard to look at him, but when you do, he’s looking pale. “I’m sorry.” He says. “I’m sorry I- he, did... That. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His hands find yours and you look down at them. A calming gesture, but you find new scars on your arms, your legs, your stomach. Did your Jake amputate you? Gut you? Oh, God. 

You can’t think, you can’t think. You can’t look at his face anymore, you can’t think. 

“I should go.”


End file.
